


stuck in my head

by thir13enth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Minor Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, our modern single parent au, so i guess all in all our modern single parent soulmates au, that also happens to be a soulmates au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: It's not every day that Felix has a song about an exploding library in his head. (or, our modern single parent soulmates felannie au)Art by Ruri (@/ruroeroori) on twitter!
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 24
Kudos: 36
Collections: Felannie Mini Bang 2020





	1. searching for answers

**Author's Note:**

> honestly one of the most self-indulgent fics you’ve ever seen on this site. 
> 
> (and yes. i definitely scrambled to post this on 6/9 because i have priorities and values in life, you know)

Even as a young child, Felix Hugo Fraldarius never once believed in fairy tales.

His parents never read them to him, and quite honestly, even if he _had_ had those kinds of stories in the bookshelves of his home, he wouldn't have even touched them. He never particularly liked those kinds of stories anyway. All of them with happy endings, perfect lives, gorgeous sunsets — all things Felix never imagined to all co-exist.

But there is one story he will always remember, and it’s the one his grandmother used to tell him all the time — her own story about when she met his grandfather, and how she knew he was the one.

“Wartime was hard, and we had to work very hard to live very little,” she used to tell him, tone delicately light on her native tongue. “I wanted to give up all the time. Things were too difficult. I didn’t see the point in getting up every day to simply make ends meet. But one day, when I was at my worst, I started hearing a voice in my head, telling me to not give up and that things were going to get better. I didn’t think much of it at the time, I just listened and I kept going, just like that voice told me.”

The corner of her eyes would crinkle then, as she’d smile, as if vividly remembering the next moment even as she retold it. “Then I met your grandfather. He was a janitor at a general store, and I saw him while I was in line to pay for the groceries. It was a very long line. There was only one person at the front, and I must have been standing there for at least twenty minutes already. Your grandfather was mopping the floors, and I just remember how he was so handsome, and I felt so connected to him. I couldn’t understand why. I thought that maybe I knew him from somewhere. I was about to be called up to the register but I actually left the line to talk to him!” Her grin would widen then, as if boasting about the risk she had taken to give up her spot in the line.

“I said hi to him and asked him if he knew me. He stopped what he was doing, and he looked at me carefully before finally declaring, ‘Never in my entire life. But I’m glad I do now.’ And then _that_ _’s_ when I realized.” She would pause for dramatic effect. “ _That_ _’s_ when I realized that _his_ voice was the one in my heart the whole time. He was telling me not to give up so that I could eventually meet him!”

Of course, he never actually took his grandmother seriously. Indeed, she was a great storyteller, particularly good at embellishing details. She would paint scenes with her words, and she would narrate dialogue as if it were happening right before his eyes. So much so that he could almost believe it, if he so allowed himself. _If._

But if there is one thing that has never changed about Felix, it’s that he never believed in fate or destiny, in horoscopes or fortunetelling, or how the stars aligned or how the planets intersected.

And he _especially_ never believed in soulmates.

…

_Thank you for the follow up. Deadline for Thursday afternoon sounds reasonable and then it all goes boom!_

Felix’s fingers suddenly stop over the keyboard. What? He stares at the words and holds his finger on backspace until ‘then it all goes boom’ disappears, recollecting his thoughts.

That’s the fourth time this week he’s caught himself typing this same kind of nonsense — some lyrics to some song he can’t make any sense of.

What the hell _is_ that song? And why is it always in his head?

He re-reads his email draft. _Deadline for Thursday afternoon sounds reasonable and_ … what was he trying to say again? He groans softly, rubbing his temple with his free hand as he scrolls up with his mouse to read up the email chain.

His phone screen lights up then, and Felix frowns when he sees the name. Nevertheless, he scoops his phone into his hands, opening his text messages.

 _Bad sleep again?_ From Sylvain.

Felix huffs, feeling disdain rise in his chest.

 _Yeah, just pick Leo up from school today?_ , he types back.

He doesn’t want to spend any extra words on Sylvain. Relying on his ex-husband is something he never wanted to do in the first place, but Felix had slept well past his alarm — something he often inevitably found himself doing on days he decided to work remotely — and missed a processing check-in meeting with his supervisor. Fortunately his supervisor was forgiving, but of course, the only other available time slot to make up for the missed time was precisely his son’s pick-up time from school.

Sylvain replies within a few seconds.

_You never have been a good sleeper. Something on your mind?_

Felix sneers.

 _Just answer the damn question,_ he types.

He glares at the ellipses on the screen, waiting until Sylvain’s response pops up in full.

_I can pick him up from school. When are you picking him back up?_

Felix tabs quickly to his calendar, reviewing the day’s events. He supposes that while Leo is over with Sylvain, he might as well batch together some of the other tasks.

 _Maybe 7?,_ he replies.

Felix blinks at his phone, waiting a moment for a reply.

Sylvain is usually fast with his texts, so when Felix sees nothing after staring at his screen for another two seconds, Felix can only presume Sylvain maybe had _other_ plans for that time. 

_What, another date?_ , he types out, but then looks it over and deletes the message, thinking better. He tosses his phone face down onto his desk. He can _not_ let himself waste another damn morning on Sylvain’s irresponsibility — this is why they broke things off in the first place. Of course, this all would be ten times more difficult if Felix wasn’t already half-time working from home.Aas a newly single dad with an elementary school-aged son, not needing to be in an office for the long hours is an incredibly helpful perk.

His phone vibrates then, and Felix audibly groans as he flips it over to read the message.

 _I keep telling you to just sign Leo up for some after-school program,_ Sylvain texts. _You wouldn_ _’t have to deal with me_ and _Leo would have better company when you_ _’re too damn busy working anyway._

Felix bristles at this. Of all people, Sylvain knows exactly why Felix refuses to send Leo to after-school. And it’s _not_ because he’s cheap.

 _So does 7 work or not?_ , he texts.

_Yes. Fine._

Letting out an exhaustive sigh, Felix sits back into his chair, closing his eyes and massaging his temples.

He just needs to get through the day. Just work, then pick Leo up, then get through four more days, and then he can properly enjoy the weekend with Leo. For once, he doesn’t have any conference calls scheduled for the weekend — at least so far. But he promised himself he would refuse any meetings for the upcoming weekend; it’s been a long time since he’s spent quality time with Leo.

Felix hates to admit it, but there is some truth to what Sylvain had said about Felix’s work schedule.

Thinking this, he frowns. Well, at least _his_ work is providing the benefits and the money for the utility bills, the groceries, the mortgage, the insurance, their savings, their _entire fucking livelihood_. Sylvain can talk shit when he actually finds himself a stable job. And if Sylvain can’t find a good stint then he better shut the fuck up about taking care of Leo when Felix literally can’t.

His phone vibrates one more time.

 _You never answered why you didn_ _’t sleep well last night._

What the hell does it matter to Sylvain why Felix didn’t sleeping well? He only texted to ask him to pick Leo up, not for an entire conversation trying to figure out why he tossed and turned in bed until three in the goddamn morning. This is why Felix hates reaching out to Sylvain for anything, and this is why Felix hates that Sylvain is the only other lifeline he can use. Ingrid and Dimitri already played their part multiple times before, and even he can tell they were intentionally distancing themselves from Felix and Sylvain’s drama.

Also, he doesn’t really want to get into why he couldn’t sleep — he had some stupid song about steaks and cakes in his head, and he literally couldn’t turn off the melody or his questions about _where_ the song came from, _who_ was the voice singing in his head, and _what the fuck_ happened to all the books in the library after the boom? The pages would be everywhere — and why is anyone making any library explode? What did libraries ever do?

He stares at his computer screen for another minute, glaring at the blinking cursor.

_And it all goes boom!_

Felix suddenly scoots his chair forward, pulling open a search engine tab and plugging in the words, “library goes boom.”

 _And it all goes boom!_ Are those really are the only five words that he remembers… outside of the fact that this is about a library? Incredibly unfortunate given the fact that the song had been on repeat in his head for the better half of his night.

Whatever, he thinks, this is all he remembers. He taps enter on his keyboard.

He’s sure some children’s silly lullaby would come up, and he’d be absolved of all this nonsense. He’d find out that he was probably reliving some childhood memory that just happened to have that song playing in the background. And then to get it out of his head, he’d maybe listen to it for the next five hours on repeat and once he gets that out of his system, he would obliterate his browsing history and then carry on with the rest of his life without an exploding library haunting him.

The only thing the internet pulls up, however, is some news about some educational science event at one of the local libraries. Something about making fake volcanoes and teaching kids about tectonic plates.

He leans back into his chair, sighing.

It’s the same shit as the last time he tried searching for “library goes boom.”

He still hasn’t figured anything out. There are no leads from the words that he remembers… and why are these lyrics so strange anyway? And how does he search for the sound of a voice? He always hears this song in the same voice too — soft and lovely, cheery and bright. Why is it always her voice? Who _is_ that voice? A forgotten friend? A stranger he overheard? A client from one of his many conference calls? An advertisement? He certainly doesn’t remember anyone’s voice like this.

He chews on his lip.

Oddly, this situation feels strangely familiar, but he can’t fathom why.

…

The sun sets and the hour strikes seven, and he still can’t figure it out. He runs his program one more time, glancing at the corner of his screen to read off the time.

It’s already 6:53.

Fuck, he’s been so unfocused today. He was barely able to get anything done — all because of that stupid exploding library song and her voice, whoever that voice is.

Felix glances back at his program’s output, scrolling through the spreadsheet. It’s not quite right, but he’s almost there. He just needs to…

He looks back at the time again. This would only take a few minutes, and if Felix is fast, he can make it to Sylvain in just under ten minutes. Sylvain is usually late for everything Felix asks for anyway. It’ll be fine. He just needs to get this part done while he still has the momentum. God knows that Sylvain probably didn’t help Leo at all with his homework, so he’s not going to be able to get any work done when Leo gets back.

Plus, he has to figure out dinner. Maybe he’ll just pick it up. He doesn’t really have time or the energy to figure out what to put together today, and he doesn’t want to hear from Leo about his terrible cooking either.

A few minutes becomes more like another half hour. Felix stands up from his chair as soon as the numbers on the spreadsheet look exactly as he wants them to do. He’s done. He’s finally done. He still can’t believe how long that took him — honestly no wonder the company’s struggling this much to update its processes. With such an antiquated backend, _of course_ it was taking them forever to increase efficiency in their workflow.

He quickly pulls open his desk drawer, taking his car keys in one hand and stuffing his wallet into his back pocket with the other. Sylvain is going to be shit mad at him, but Felix doesn’t particularly care. What’s the worst Sylvain could do? Give him the silent treatment?

He hopes so. He doesn’t want to hear from that man ever again.

…

Even as his car pulls onto the street into Sylvain’s driveway, Felix already starts to feel his nerves acting up, as if even his body knew it was getting closer to the last person he wanted to see right now. He shuts the engine in his car, taking a moment before stepping out and walking up to the door. Raising his hand to the door, he takes another moment to himself before knocking.

The door swings opens, almost immediately, and Felix holds his breath as air from inside rushes out. Despite his best efforts, he still catches the scent of Sylvain’s cologne — a little stronger than usual.

Sylvain gives him a curt smile before turning his head into the house again. “Oh, Leo, would you look at the time? I guess it’s _already_ time for you to go home.”

Felix picks up the passive aggressiveness right away. “I’m only 20 minutes late.”

“Hm?” Sylvain asks, turning his head back to him and raising an eyebrow. “Oh, no,” he says brightly. “Twenty minutes doesn’t matter _at all_ , Felix. Don’t worry about it.”

Felix looks over Sylvain’s button-down shirt and pressed pants. “Thanks,” he replies. “It’s not like you had anyone important to see afterwards anyway. Not like you had anywhere important to go.”

“No, no, no one is more important than you, Fe. You’re the _most important_ person in the world.”

Felix decides not to waste any more breath on prolonging the conversation, crossing his arms and stepping inside, deliberately passing Sylvain. Just down the entrance hall in the living room, he spots Leo gathering his things, pulling his backpack onto his shoulders.

“Not even going to take off your shoes?” Sylvain remarks.

It’s something Felix used to gripe on Sylvain about all the time.

“You don’t even take off your own shoes in your own damn house,” Felix snaps, immediately flipping demeanor as Leo approaches. His voice softens as he backs out of the door again. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Leo simply looks between the two of them, before joining Felix outside. Felix reaches down to take Leo’s hand, leading him quickly away. Leo resists a little bit, waving goodbye to Sylvain.

“Bye, Dad!” Leo calls out.

“Bye!” Sylvain replies.

Felix doesn’t reciprocate.

“You can always come again, you know,” Sylvain adds.

Felix ignores him, simply unlocking the car and opening the door for Leo. Leo climbs in, clicking in his seatbelt. Felix doesn’t doesn’t say another word until the car is fully backed out of the driveway and around the corner.

“You had fun?” Felix asks, but it’s more of a rhetorical question because _of fucking course_ Leo had fun with Sylvain.

“Yeah! Dad got me ice cream after school, too.”

Felix purses his lips. “He got you ice cream?”

“Yeah!” Leo replies, a big smile on his face.

Felix feels his knuckles tighten around the steering wheel. He presses his lips together.

“I kinda wish I got to see Dad more,” Leo says, after another second. “Why don’t we see Dad more?”

“He’s not living with us anymore,” Felix simply replies, but he anticipates the next question as it comes.

“Why not?”

Felix thinks for a moment. “Because I don’t like him anymore,” he finally says. He glances in the rearview mirror to catch Leo’s reaction to the answer.

Leo stares at the window, as if thinking to himself before asking, “Why not?”

Honestly? He’s never believed in hiding the truth from children but there’s also a lot Leo wouldn’t understand. But also, Felix doesn’t actually fully understand the answer himself.

“I don’t like him,” Felix answers.

Leo isn’t satisfied with the answer. “What do you mean?”

“I just _don_ _’t like him_ ,” he simply repeats.

“I don’t get it,” Leo says. “Why can’t you like Dad?”

How the hell is he going to explain that Sylvain is irresponsible, untrustworthy, annoying, and incorrigible?

“I don’t like him, and that’s that,” he snaps.

Sensing Felix’s anger, Leo clamps his mouth shut, gluing his eyes back to the car window. Leo folds his arms into himself, emulating the anger himself, but after a few seconds, developing more of a sad frown over his face.

Felix forces himself to calm down. He can’t get mad at Leo. He’s mad at _Sylvain_ , he really can’t turn it on his son like —

His thoughts completely cut when he hears a familiar tune.

Is that —

Is his son humming the melody of that… _exploding library song_?!

The car wobbles a little, the wheel unsteady in Felix’s hands.

“Leo…” he slowly asks. “How do you know that song?”

Leo stops humming. “What song?”

“The one you were just humming.”

“Oh,” his son replies, a little bewildered by Felix’s sudden interest in what he’s humming. “Ms. Annette sings us that song.”

Who?

Felix furrows his eyebrows, turning his head back to Leo. “ _Ms. Who?_ ”

“Dad!” Leo shouts, pointing ahead of the car.

Felix whips his head back around in time to realize he’s nearly run a stop sign.

“Fuck!” he blurts, slamming down on the brakes.

The car with right of way gives him a long dramatic honk as it passes through the intersection.

Language, his son later reminds him as they pull up into the garage.


	2. saved by the bell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lovely art by [ruri](https://www.twitter.com/ruroeroori)!!!

Felix flips off the car engine, then turns his head around to face Leo. “Are you okay?”

His son simply nods, unbuckling himself and his hand on the door handle to climb out of the car. He seemed completely unbothered by the almost accident. Honestly, Felix is a lot more shaken about putting the two of them in danger — more shaken by how all of this started because he had been trying to figure out something about a silly song. Nevertheless, he takes an extra second before returning to the investigation at hand, stepping out of the car and pulling the house keys out of his back pocket.

“Ms. _Who_?” he asks again.

Leo seems to have forgotten what they were talking about too.

“The one that sings that song?”

“Oh. Ms. Annette!”

“Ms. Annette?”

Leo looks at him weirdly. “My teacher? You don’t remember?”

He doesn’t, but he also doesn’t answer the question. “She sings that song? What song is that?”

“It’s the clean up the library song!”

“Clean up the library song?”

“Yeah.” Leo looks at him uncomfortably, not understanding the sudden barrage of questions.

Clean up the library song? Is this a childhood song that exists? Why is she singing about explosions when it’s about cleaning the library song? Does this Ms. Annette teacher sing it so much that his son knows the song? And then… maybe Felix overheard his son singing it to himself so much that somehow he picked it up and then it got into _his_ head?

Leo looks up at Felix. “Hey Dad? Can you open the door? I really need to pee.”

Felix glances down at his hand, where he’s holding the key out in front of the lock. “Oh. Right.”

Nature calls. The voice in his head can wait.

…

Her name? Ms. Annette. What does she do? She's our homeroom teacher, Dad. When does she sing this song? When we clean the library room, duh! Why does she sing this song? I don't know... 

And yet, the more answers Felix gets out of his son that night, the more questions Felix has.

Ms. Annette. Her name repeats over and over in his head — through his attempt at homework help for the rest of the evening, through his second sleepless night in a row, through a god awful morning with a shitty cup of coffee, and through the abominable traffic-laden drive to school the very next morning.

Turning the corner around the block, Felix takes one look at the incredibly long line of cars, filled with other irritable parents and their children, and decidedly turns into the school staff-restricted parking lot.

Of course, Leo, ever observant, immediately sits up. “Wha-what are you doing? We’re not supposed to go in here!”

“I know,” Felix replies. He stops in front of the first set of double doors he sees at the back of the building, turning his head to Leo. “You know how to get to your classroom from here, right?”

“Y-yeah, but— “

“Then go!” he says, waving Leo off. Leo doesn’t budge right away, so Felix tips his head toward his son. Felix glances at the time — honestly, they’re about 10 minutes earlier than usual, simply by virtue of completely bypassing the general conduct and bending a few rules. “Okay, I know we shouldn’t be doing this, but I don’t feel like waiting in line to drop you off. I’m sorry.”

To this, Leo frowns, twisting his lips, before peering out the window.

“Actually—” And then Felix pulls the car into park and turning off the engine, stepping out of the car.

Bewildered, Leo looks at him through the car window. Felix opens the door for him and Leo blurts, “What are you doing?”

“I’ll take you to class,” he offers.

Leo doesn’t like any of his ideas today. “Wait! Dad, you don’t have to go in with me! I know how to get there myself!”

Felix takes his son’s hand and pulls him out anyway. He doesn’t let go, walking toward the school building. “Come on,” he says, feeling his son digging his heels into the gravel of the parking lot.

“ _What are you doing?_ Why do you have to go with me?”

“I’ll give you extra lunch money,” Felix offers.

It’s not a strong bribe, but Felix manages to get him and his son into the actual school building. Surprised that the double doors from the back are actually open, Felix quickly surveys the hallways. There’s a few students here and there, making their way to their morning classes or standing by the sides to chat with other friends. Some of them take a look at Felix, then a look at Leo.

This is fine. And this is perfectly normal, isn’t it? Felix has seen his fair share of overprotective parents helicoptering their kids over from the front door of their bedroom to the front door of the classroom — and sure, maybe that was more something he witnessed at the beginning of the year, rather than now when it’s practically summer — but it’s _fine._

Leo tugs at his hand, looking particularly nervous. “ _Okay._ You can go, Dad. Everyone’s staring.”

“It’s fine,” he insists, more a reminder to himself. “I just want to know where your classroom is. What is it? Down this way and then a right?”

“ _It doesn_ _’t matter!_ ” His son starts to drag again, skidding his sneakers.

Felix pulls Leo forward, stopping and leaning down to scold Leo quietly. “You know you’re just bringing more attention to yourself,” he says lowly.

Seeing that the damage is done, Leo stops refusing, resorting himself to stop fighting the embarrassment. They get to Leo’s classroom — room 112 — and Leo wrestles himself out of his father’s grip, running to the door. Leo shoots him a death glare, but Felix follows step right behind him, taking as good a look inside the classroom through the sliver of the open door.

The room’s arranged like any other classroom — mini tables and short chairs grouped in five, with paper triangles of nameplates, the walls decorated with a mix of seasonal construction-paper crafts, bulletin boards with rules handwritten in large blue print, at least twenty versions of the same art drawn in multiple students’ interpretations, a line of the alphabet wrapped around the wall.

There’s already a handful of students in the classroom, backpacks still on the shoulders, but faces bright and chatting away with the adult in the center.

This is Ms. Annette? Leo’s teacher? The one that apparently sings all these silly songs?

He takes another glance. She sits in a plastic blue chair — a kid-sized one, but she seems to be comfortable enough, leaning over her crossed leg with her chin propped up on her hand. Her shoulder-length orange-red hair is tucked back behind her ears, and she wears a loose beige dress, a light blue camisole over it.

She doesn’t look familiar at all. Not even when Felix racks his brain about who he met at the open house school night all the way at the beginning of the year. He would have definitely remembered seeing someone _that_ —

“Good morning, Leo!” she greets melodically, eyes zipping to the door. “How are you doing—” Her voice instantly cuts when her eyes spot Felix. “Oh! Is that your dad?”

Felix freezes on spot, spine stiffening as she uncrosses her legs, rising from the chair and approaching him. She’s at least a half foot shorter than him, but Felix feels a sudden cold sweat run over his body when her bright blue eyes meet his.

“How are you doing? Do you need something?” she asks, flashing a bright smile.

Felix opens his mouth but no words come out.

It’s her. It’s _her_ voice.

 _It_ _’s her voice that’s been in his head._

“Um… we can step outside of you like?” she suggests, forcing a quick laugh.

She steps through the door and closes it behind her. Felix backs away a few steps.

“So, anything concerning you?” she starts again, then adding, “Just so you know, Leo is a great student. He’s such a good kid.”

“Oh, uh, no. Nothing,” he manages.

“No concerns or worries at all?” she asks again. “Or maybe you’re just stopped by to say hi?” She gives him another once-over. “Actually I have to admit that I don’t immediately recognize you from the open house.” She waves it off. “But that was all the way in the beginning of the year, so forgive me!”

“I, uh. Yeah, nothing,” he stammers. “I was just… dropping by.”

“Alright!” she replies, giving him another big smile. She waits an extra second for him to respond, but he doesn’t add anything. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. … Fraldarius? I’m guessing, but that’s just because of Leo’s last name.”

“Yeah, Fraldarius,” Felix affirms, nodding his head.

“Then it was nice meeting you then, Mr. Fraldarius. Thanks for coming by! It’s always nice to see the students’ parents.” She reaches behind her for the doorknob. “And of course, please feel free to come back and discuss if anything comes up — but if I have to be honest with you, Leo is one of my best students so I promise you have nothing to worry about. I have no doubt you’re doing your best in supporting him.”

“R-right,” he replies, also turning away. “Thank you, Ms. Ann—” But he quickly stops himself before saying her first name.

She laughs. “Dominic,” she tells him. “But no worries! You can call me Ms. Annette, if you like. That’s what all the students call me anyway so I’m used to responding to that.”

“Thanks,” he tries again, attempting his leave once again.

She waves goodbye. “Okay, it was nice meeting you!” she exclaims. “Or maybe _re_ -meeting you!”

…

Felix is more successful keeping thoughts about Ms. Dominic and Ms. Dominic’s songs out of his head — at least until he picks Leo up from school.

No, no, he thinks, catching himself before he heads into another thinking spiral. It’s _just_ a coincidence that the voice singing in his head happens to sound like his son’s elementary school teacher. And in fact, her voice is pretty normal, averagely feminine and clear — so it’s not like she _wouldn_ _’t_ at all sound like the voice in his head.

And moreover, yeah, maybe it _is_ weird he had her songs in his head in the first place but — and Felix’s eyebrow twitches when he hears Leo humming to himself from the back of the car — at the rate his son is singing these song, _of course_ he’s going to get it stuck in his head. How Felix hadn’t connected the dots earlier, he doesn’t have the answer to.

“Leo,” he says, this time keeping his attention on the road in front of him so that a repeat of the other day doesn’t happen again.

“Yeah?” Leo replies, ever chipper.

“Do you know that song by heart?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you… do you think we can look up that song on the internet when we get home?”

“Okay.” But not before another second, Leo asks, “Why?”

“I’m just… curious,” Felix says.

Leo doesn’t bombard him with more questions after that, and relieved, Felix pulls their car into the garage, without a single almost-accident.

He calls Leo over to his computer workstation before they even get settled at home. “Come here,” he says, beckoning Leo to come to him. “Sing the song for me.”

Leo nods, starting with a loud and confident voice. 

_Oh, how I just love to clean. Clean the library room!_

_Just takes a flash of light and then it all goes boom!_

“Alright, thanks,” Felix says, interrupting and hitting enter. He surveys the internet results — seeing the titles of a books down the search list, all with captions bolding just a few words here and there: boom, flash of light, library. None of these captions had the phrase in whole, and none of these search results looked promising.

Honestly it’s not entirely what he expected, but he also doesn’t really know what else to expect.

He turns back to Leo. “Is there more to the song?”

Leo nods, before continuing.

_A flash and then a big boom! Suddenly the deed is done!_

_My! What a great job I did! Who says cleaning isn_ _’t fun?_

Felix suddenly stops typing. “That doesn’t even make sense,” he tells his son. The fact that the song is about cleaning doesn’t make the lyrics any more clear. What’s the flash of light referring to anyway?

“Huh?”

“Why would you clean the library with a flash of light and a boom?”

Leo looks quizzedly at him, and that’s the moment Felix realizes that his son is definitely not going to know the answers. He presses enter and looks over the search results. It’s just as fruitless of a search as the previous one.

“What did you find?” Leo asks, leaning forward to look over the screen.

“Nothing,” Felix says, sighing.

Maybe Felix really only has the songs in his head simply because Leo sings them so damn much. There really is no other reason, he supposes. This song isn’t an old nursery lullaby at all. It’s just a song that his son’s elementary school teacher sings. A sing that is terribly catchy and somehow unfortunately got into his head.

“Maybe we can try searching again?”

“It’s fine,” he replies, getting up from his chair. “Just forget about it.”

…

Easier said than done. At least for Felix.

Felix turns in bed, now facing away from the window. He flips his pillow, hoping the cooler side would prompt his body to attempt sleep once more.

Maybe he just has to accept the fact that he hears her voice in his head. And maybe that’s fine. Maybe he’s actually heard her voice from somewhere, like in the supermarket or something and his mind didn’t think anything of it until he also heard his son singing the same song later on but the reason why _her_ voice is in his head is because her voice was the first exposure he had to that song. Or maybe he just happened to remember her voice from open house school night and even though he’s never heard her sing this, he extrapolated this song to her voice because… well, her voice _is_ kinda nice to listen to.

But at this point, it’s not even about having the songs in his head that is keeping him up. Nor the weird and nonsensical lyrics.

What’s keeping him are all the _questions_. And then that _strange feeling_ of deja vu. Why does this story about a voice in his head feel so familiar, like something he’s heard about before? Especially when he doesn’t remember _this_ ever happening to him before. Maybe someone he knew —

Then it hits him.

 _That_ _’s when I realized that his voice was the one in my heart the whole time._

This reminds him of his grandmother’s story. The one she used to always tell him about his grandfather.

How she knew he was her _soulmate_.

No, no, no, no. This is stupid.

He refuses to believe it. This makes even less sense than the ridiculous song.

It can’t be. He’s idiotic for even thinking it.

Felix shoves the thought into the back of his mind.

He flips his pillow again.

…

The tip of the knife tears through the slice of bread he has balanced on his hand.

“Fuck,” Felix mumbles, dropping the bread onto the plate before him. He checks his head for any cuts — unlikely because he’s using a butter knife, but he also isn’t about to inadvertently give his son a bloody sandwich for lunch. Once seeing his skin perfectly intact, he continues spreading the peanut butter again, awkward around the crack.

Why the fuck does chunky peanut butter have to be so dense and un-spreadable anyway?

Leo comes into the kitchen as Felix slaps together the bread. He takes one look as Felix stuffs the sandwich into a ziploc bag and then huffs. “PB&J again?”

Felix’s eyebrows furrow. He drops the packaged sandwich, then a few snacks into a brown paper bag. His son has never been the picky type. “You love peanut butter and jelly,” he says.

“Yeah… but I had it yesterday too…”

“You’ve never complained when that’s practically all I gave you last week,” Felix replies, handing Leo his lunch.

“Yeah, but now I’m sick of it.” Leo looks incredibly disappointed but still takes the lunch bag, a small frown on his face. “Dad makes better lunches,” he adds.

Felix bristles upon hearing this. Comparing him to Sylvain is honestly the last thing he wants in the morning.

“Well, maybe _Sylvain_ isn’t as busy as I am,” he says, emphasizing the name. He also kinda hates when Leo refers to Sylvain as his dad as well. Felix decides not to push it beyond that. “Come on, let’s go.”

The rest of the morning doesn’t go anymore swimmingly. Upon reaching the school grounds again, Felix is distraught by the line of cars that trails around the block. How did he ever actually wait in line for that long? How _will_ he ever actually wait in line again after he’s discovered such a great work around yesterday?

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking for a moment before abruptly making a turn into the faculty parking lot.

Leo calls him out immediately.

“You’re doing it again, Dad!” he groans, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “We’re not supposed to do this!”

“I don’t have time, okay?” Felix quickly explains.

And it worked last time anyway. He searches for a spot to pull into, but finding none, he makes do with an empty corner of the building. After carefully backing into the space, he pulls the car into park.

Felix pauses for a moment, then flips off the car engine.

The moment Leo catches on what he’s doing, Leo throws a fit. “No! Dad! Just stay! I don’t need you to go in with me!” Leo shouts, now clamoring out of the car as if trying to get out before Felix. Unfortunately for his son, Felix is much faster, and when he steps out the car, Leo remains inside, arms crossed indignantly.

Felix opens the car door.

“Leave me alone!” Leo shouts at him.

“Come on, let’s go,” Felix says, feeling his voice raising. Leo’s already pushed many of his buttons already this morning. He really can’t with his son right now. He stands there, waiting for at least a minute. “Come _on_ ,” he repeats, now a little more angry.

“Don’t come inside with me!”

“I won’t.” It’s a lie.

His son knows it. “Yes, you are! You turned off the car!”

“I just have to talk with Ms. Annette again for a quick minute. You can walk ahead of me if you want.”

“Why do you have to talk with Ms. Annette?”

“I have to…” he sputters. “I have to ask her some questions, alright?”

“Is this about her songs?”

“No, it’s _not_ about her songs.” Also a lie.

Leo just glares up at him, not budging. Felix quickly loses his patience. “Come _on_ ,” he says, then takes Leo’s wrist and practically pulls him out of the vehicle.

“No! Stop it!” Leo says, wrestling his hand out from Felix. Once he does, he runs around the car, speeding toward the double doors at the back of the building.

Felix’s heart jumps — his eyes darting left and right for any oncoming cars. “Leo!” he yells, running out and grabbing his wrist, forcibly stopping him and pulling him backwards. “What are you doing? You didn’t even look! You could have been hit by a car!”

Leo huffs, looking around. “There _weren_ _’t_ any cars!”

“You weren’t even looking!” Felix reprimands.

“I’m _fine_.”

Before Felix can retort, a bell rings from inside the building. Felix checks his watch — the five-minute warning bell.

Angry but wordless, Felix takes a sharp breath in and shakes his head. “Okay, whatever. Let’s just go.”

Leo stays at least ten feet ahead of him the entire way, marching forward with great determination. It’s not hard to do, especially since there’s so much foot traffic in the hallway. Felix is at least a foot-and-a-half taller than all the students, so he has to be extra careful to not accidentally trample someone’s child. Every few steps, Leo looks back at Felix, as if checking if Felix is maintaining distance, and just before he slips into the classroom, he gives Felix one last look and then goes in.

Through the opening, Felix peers in, attempting to catch a glance inside the classroom just to see if —

She spots him peeking through the door immediately, giving him a small smile.

Fuck. Felix takes himself out of the vantage point, pressing himself against the wall — as if that would do anything when she’s already at the door. She leaves the door cracked open behind her, and a few more students scramble into the classroom. She gives them a quick wave, then looks back up at him.

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Fraldarius,” Ms. Annette — rather Ms. _Dominic_ — greets him.

“Hey.” Felix struggles to figure out how to open. He looks away, unable to focus with her blue eyes on him. But now there’s no avoiding the subject now. She’s caught him, and this is the second time he’s talking to her.

She smiles. “I figured you might be back. We didn’t really get to chat yesterday,” she says, as if prompting him. She pauses a moment, waiting for any word from him. He doesn’t provide any. “You know, if you have concerns at all, you can just tell me! I feel like you wanted to say something yesterday but it looked like you weren’t able to get it out.” His ongoing silence presses her to continue. “Or maybe if you feel like you want to talk about it privately, I—”

“Your singing,” he finally says, meeting her eyes then.

He sees her take a breath. Her eyes widen and her face pales. Or maybe the freckles on her face just look darker up close.

“My what?” It comes out more like a sentence.

“Good morning, Ms. Annette!” another student yells in greeting as they run into the classroom, not without staring at Felix.

Ms. Dominic forces a smile onto her face, waving at the student in return.

He waits for her to look back at him. Her smiles drops again.

“Your singing,” he repeats. “Your voice is… stuck in my head.” Felix decides he doesn’t really want to get into how he’s had the exploding library song playing on repeat in his mind for the past few days, so he presses on with his questions. “I was wondering about your songs. Are they from anywhere? Or are you making them up?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she stammers. The tops of her cheeks become a dusty pink and she warily looks from side-to-side. “H-How do you know about my singing? I don’t sing!”

What? He furrows his eyebrows. “No, I know you sing,” he insists. “I just wanted to ask about your songs—”

The school bell rings then. Loud enough to make his ears hum. He waits a second for his hearing to return to normal.

“So, about your singing—”

“Oh!” she interrupts him loudly. She backs into the classroom door, reaching for the doorknob behind her. “I-I gotta go teach now! I’m so sorry. And I don’t know what you’re talking about! We’ll have to… uh, clarify another time!”

“Wait—”

“Bye, Mr. Fraldarius!” she exclaims, practically shouting. She waves goodbye quickly, bending back into the door and slipping into the classroom, leaving Felix to himself in the hallway, where he stood confused.

She doesn’t sing? There’s no way she doesn’t sing. Leo said that she sang all these different songs in the classroom.

And Leo isn’t a liar — or at least there’s no way Leo would be able to create _that_ elaborate of a lie at his age.

Besides, she pretty much confessed to it, didn’t she? She asked how he knew about her singing. Of course, just after asking that, she denied she sang in the first place. She must sing. There’s no way she doesn’t, and he doesn’t know why she’s making a big deal about it at all. What’s so bad about singing?

Felix’s phone vibrates a couple times — some work texts. He checks the time. Well, he has to get going anyway. He tucks his phone back into his pocket and retraces his steps back to the school faculty parking lot.

Why would she want to hide her singing? And why would she so blatantly lie about it? Is it a secret that she’s trying to keep or something? But how is that possible? If she’s singing so much in the classroom, there _has_ to be other kids that bring these songs home and there _has_ to be other parents that know. Why does she care so much?

Moreover, why does _he_ care so much? How did he get himself into this mess in the first place? He just wanted to know about the songs in his head, and well, so _what_ if he thinks her voice is the one in his head? And actually, he doesn’t even really know if her voice is the one singing in his head anyway because he’s never actually heard her sing before, right?

Or has he?

Felix frowns as he pushes open the double doors to the parking lot. He’s probably going to be distracted for the rest of the day with these questions. He’s going to have to come back and set things straight with Ms. Annette — Ms. _Dominic_.

But all his questions quickly leave his mind when he sees a tow truck in the parking lot — with a _very familiar_ car atop it.

Wait. Is his car getting—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no it is not done............. yes i have created myself a disaster fic


	3. take you off my mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another update to this multi-chap so god help me

Annette quickly closes the classroom door behind her as she slips back into the classroom — as if all of her problems would just disappear once she locked herself inside.

As if _he_ would go just away.

She takes a quick breath, her back still turned to her students. What was _that_ all about?

_Your voice is_ _… stuck in my head._

What the hell is that even supposed to mean?

Maybe… maybe he’s heard her singing at Garreg Mach? Maybe he recognized her as his son’s teacher and then saw her at that bar? But she sorta has an idea of who all of her regular listeners are — and the Garreg Mach is usually not that busy on Tuesday nights. She would have _definitely_ recognized him if he was ever there to hear her perform.

Unless… maybe he had just dropped by one day for a drink and was in the background?

That’s the only explanation. Garreg Mach is the only place she sings, and well, now she’s been found out!

 _Crap._ No one in her _real_ life is supposed to know she sings. Well, maybe _real_ isn’t quite the right word — her _professional_ life, then, where she’s actually still trying to make a career out of teaching. Parents, the principal, future hirers would be mortified if they ever found out about her singing at bars.

Damn, she _knew_ singing there was a terrible idea to start. Damn Dorothea for convincing her to “just get up there and start singing.” It’s not like Annette _wasn’t_ aware that being found out would be a risk that would eventually come crashing down on her — she just didn’t expect it to happen so soon and so suddenly and _like this,_ where a _parent_ of one of her students confronts her about it. She always thought maybe it would have been one of her other teacher co-workers that would have found her out first…

And it doesn’t help that today is _Tuesday_ — if Mr. Fraldarius indeed knew about her singing, she’d definitely see him there today at Garreg Mach… and maybe… is _that_ why he decided to drop by the classroom the past two mornings? To tell her? Before he sees her tonight there? Maybe?

Then why couldn’t he have just said something like ‘I heard you singing at Garreg Mach last week,’ or something a _little more specific_ than just saying ‘Your voice is stuck in my head,’ which is infinitely more creepy? What the hell is up with that?

Alright, she has to calm down. She’ll think about this later.

Annette takes another steady breath, then flashes on a big smile as she turns to face her students.

“Alright, everyone! Good morning!” she greets, pressing her hands together. “Let’s have a great day together!”

…

Inevitably, however, her mind always comes back to Mr. Fraldarius.

And especially now during their regular late morning individual reading time, when all the classroom is quiet and she isn’t doing any active teaching, she finds her thoughts drifting off.

It also doesn’t help that Leo Fraldarius is her homeroom student. Not that he looked incredibly alike his father, but throughout the day while methodically scanning the classroom, Annette could feel her eyes pause for an extra second over Leo.

There’s no doubt Leo Fraldarius is one of Annette’s favorite students this year… maybe one of her favorite students in her teaching career. Of course, she’s only been teaching for a few years now at this point, but Leo is special — a sweet, polite, and hard-working boy. He always participated in class, and even if he stirred up some trouble every now and then because of his brashness, he always apologized very sincerely and was able to mediate his own arguments with other classmates.

And maybe she takes extra interest in him because until the last 24 hours, she didn’t know _a thing_ about Leo’s parents. The end of the school year is coming up, and usually by now, Annette’s heard at least a little bit about every one of the students’ parents, whether because the parents’ are involved or because the students mention something here and there about them, their homes, sometimes what they had for dinner. Sometimes she could even tell something just by how their hair was done or what outfits they showed up to school with. Leo, however, while incredibly talkative in class, seems to mention nothing about his life outside of school. Ever. All she knew about Leo was that he often brought lunch from home in a brown paper bag.

In fact, Annette didn’t know a thing about Leo’s parents until yesterday morning when _Mr. Fraldarius_ showed up without any warning. If she were honest with herself, when she imaged Leo’s parents, she imagined… well, maybe perhaps people that were a little… _nicer_.

Of course, all of those presumptions went out the door after meeting Mr. Fraldarius.

The man was nothing like his son. Mr. Fraldarius was awkward, weird, confrontational — and worst of all, he knew about her _singing_ and wanted to _talk_ to her about it.

She can’t shake the feeling that maybe Mr. Fraldarius was trying to get at something more? He _was_ in the middle of asking her another question when she just cut him off and ducked into her classroom. She only regrets not hearing him out a little bit… besides, what else was she supposed to have done? She had her students to get to! If anything, _he_ should have at least come a little earlier to talk to her about… these more _private_ things — or maybe just not have come at all! He could have easily just approached her at Garreg Mach and talked to her then!

Your voice is stuck in my head? He could have told her that at the bar! He didn’t have to come _all the way to her work_ to tell her that he liked her singing.

Or well… at least that’s what she _presumes_ he was trying to say. Why else would he say that her voice is in his head?

He likes her singing… Somehow she doesn’t find that a terrible thought — even if she never meant for anyone outside of the regular patrons of Garreg Mach to know that. Tuesday nights are a safe space for her to just sing as she likes. She never thought anyone outside of the drunkards would find her singing nice to listen to.

She feels a smile tug at the corners of her lips. She discreetly hides it, holding her hand over her mouth.

She guesses that’s nice… maybe Mr. Fraldarius is just being nice and —

The timer goes off on the bookshelf behind her, vibrating wildly. She swivels around on her stool, turning it off before facing her students again, all somewhat gathered around her, with books in their laps.

Right, right. Back to class. She _has_ to stop thinking about this. She has to stop thinking about _him_.

“Alright everyone!” she announces, pointing to the clock. “It is now 11:15! Our reading time is over! Can I have some volunteers tell me what happened in the stories they read today before we go to lunch?” She gives the students pause as they settle from the alarm, paying special attention to the two kids that sometimes got so caught up in reading they forgot to pay any attention to their surroundings — but they were good today.

Scanning the room for hands, she sees Leo’s hand among the first that were raised. She’s called on him yesterday already, however, and she’s almost certain that she called on him both Thursday and Friday when class participation was like pulling teeth. She gives him a gentle smile. “Leo, we’ve heard so much from you the past few days. Maybe we can hear from someone else?”

His face visibly saddens and Annette’s heart almost sinks with it, but she had to tell him somehow she wanted participation from others — otherwise she’d be ignoring him, and that would be even worse!

“Camilla. What about you?” she asks, sitting on the edge of her table. The next hand raises, and she nods at it. “Then Isaac!”

Camilla says to nothing about her book’s plot — asking more questions about why the main character, a detective cat, decided _not_ to check the box for the missing cat — and Isaac rambles a little bit while telling the class about the school kid super hero protagonist that ceased the end of bullying, but nonetheless, Annette praises both her students for good summaries, then stands up again and claps her hands together once.

“It’s 11:25 now!” Annette says, gesturing once more to the clock. “You know what that means — it’s almost time for lunch! But before we go to lunch, what do we have to do?”

“Clean the library room!” several students say, albeit all out of sync.

“You know it!” Annette nevertheless replies.

Her students simply look at her, waiting for her cue. They always waited for her to start her song before they scrambled to clean the library corner, putting their books away and stacking up the floor cushions and whatever pillows they might have borrowed. For some reason, her students this year developed some kind of challenge from the start — neatening everything out _before_ she finished song. Of course, that was never the intention of the clean-the-library song when she first created it. (It was more of a way to establish routine.) But this self-created challenge nonetheless definitely made the cleaning process more efficient. This year, she’s been rarely late for lunch.

_Oh, how I just love to clean. Clean the library room!_

She sees Leo speeding to the bookshelf, and suddenly struck with a sense of self-consciousness, Annette feels her voice falter at the end of song line. What is going on? Why is she feeling so… nervous about singing this morning? She blinks a few times, taking a half-breath before going on.

_Just takes a flash of light and then it all goes boom!_

_A flash and then a big boom! Suddenly the deed is done!_

_My! What a great job I did! Who says cleaning isn_ _’t fun?_

She finishes her song shakily. She can definitely tell she was off-beat with the song this morning, and looking around the room, she sees the class unfinished with their cleaning, some of the students still running with cushions in their hands.

“You went too fast, Ms. Annette!” one of them complain.

“Oh, did I?” She frowns. “I’m sorry, everyone — I guess I lost my sense of time!”

“Sing it like you always do!” another one of her students pipe up.

“Yeah, sing it again, Ms. Annette!”

“Please!”

Seeing her students come back to the library corner to circle around her as they finish the last set of cleaning tasks, Annette finds no choice but to sing the song again, even if there is no more cleaning to be done.

And so she starts again, although this time she has a lot more of an audience solely listening, just watching her sing. This time, she softly claps to herself, a self metronome, to keep her on track. Honestly, seeing her students just gathered around her, all their attention on her, is very unwieldy. Her cheeks grow warm, and by the end of the song, she feels a full-on blush on her face.

She hopes her students don’t notice. Finishing her song, she claps her hands together with finality.

“Okay everyone! You’re done a great job this morning! Let’s go have lunch now!”

The kids cheer, immediately getting up onto their feet and running to the door in their line order, a few of them going into their cubby bins to grab their home lunches. Annette stands to join them at the classroom door, but not before noticing Leo still sitting cross-legged on the library corner floor, looking rather distraught.

Maybe this is because she didn’t call on him to share his story summary this morning? Maybe he took it the wrong way?

Annette squats down, pursing her lips. “Leo,” she starts. “You look upset. What’s wrong?”

He averts her gaze, not answering — at least not right away. She waits for few extra seconds.

“Am I in trouble?” he asks quietly.

“In trouble?” Annette asks. “No! You’re not in trouble at all! What makes you think that?”

His eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t seem to believe her.

“What did my dad say?” he then asks.

Annette’s heart skips a full beat. “Y-Your dad?” She waves her hands out in front of her. “Oh, no, no! Your dad didn’t say anything! He just wanted to say hi to me! That’s all!”

Leo simply looks at her, still incredulous.

She extends a hand to him, standing back up. “Come on, let’s have lunch!” she exclaims, waiting for him to take her hand. Mentioning lunch usually effectively changes the subject, and she certainly hopes it works this time around. “Let’s go get something to eat — you usually bring lunch from home, right?”

“It’s peanut butter and jelly again,” he mutters under his breath, taking her hand and lifting himself up to his feet.

“Peanut butter and jelly?” Annette asks. “That sounds delicious. And don’t you like peanut butter and jelly?”

He frowns. “Yeah, but I’m _tired_ of it.”

“Well, why don’t you ask for something different?”

Leo pulls his lunch from out of his cubby bin. “I already tried.”

“Oh yeah? What happened then?” She walks with him back to the front of the room.

“Dad said he was too busy. And too tired,” Leo replies, but then indignantly adds, “He’s always working on the computer! I saw him fall asleep on his desk yesterday!”

A sudden image of Mr. Fraldarius knocked out on a table almost makes Annette break her composure. “Oh, I see,” she says, holding back a laugh. She doesn’t think she needs to know _that_ much detail. “Um, let’s chat more about this later, okay?” she suggests, then shuffling over to the front of the line to lead the rest of the class to the lunchroom.

After taking them down the hallway to join the rest of the students for the 11:30am lunch period, she quickly greets and thanks the other faculty members on lunch duty for the day, feeling fortunate she isn’t on duty today so she can get right back to her classroom to think.

Privately.

Annette closes the classroom door behind her and sits in her chair, taking a deep breath and relaxing with a sigh as she folds her hands over her desk.

Mr. Fraldarius. Mr. Fraldarius telling her that he’s heard her singing. Mr. Fraldarius telling her that her voice is in his head. Mr. Fraldarius making Leo peanut butter jelly sandwiches. Mr. Fraldarius working long hours on the computer into the night. Mr. Fraldarius falling asleep on his desk, tired from a hard day…

Maybe that would explain his awkward conversation? Or at least it would explain how messily hair was tied up and the dark bags under his eyes. His sharp amber eyes…

Oh god, she thinks to herself, closing her eyes and pressing her fingers into her temples.

She isn’t going to get him off her mind, is she?

She turns her head and squints at the clock across the room. That’s alright. She still had a good 30 minutes to prepare the activities for the rest of the day. She looks over her table, noting the post-it stuck on its surface.

_Make more copies of the spelling quiz template!_

Right, right. She stands up immediately, going into her file cabinet and pulling out the template. She runs to the teachers’ common room down the hall, slipping herself into the copy machine room and feeding the template into the machine and hitting the enter button. She stands back, crossing her arms and waiting as the machine whirred alive, pumping out her hundred copies.

Her mind, inevitably, wanders.

Come to think of it… She doesn’t recall Leo ever mentioning anyone else _but_ his dad… Maybe his dad is all Leo has at home? That would explain the long work hours and the peanut butter jelly sandwiches and could be a reason why this is the first time she’s met his dad. Maybe… Mr. Fraldarius is taking care of Leo on his own?

And what of it, Annette? she asks herself. So _what_ if he’s on his own? So _what_ if he’s a handsome man on his own? So _what_ if he’s a handsome man on his own that happened to have heard her singing and _liked it enough to go out of his way to tell her that her songs are stuck in his head_?

The copy machine beeps completion of its own job well-done. Good, she thinks, scooping the stack of papers into her arm and grabbing the template. It’s getting a little warm in the copy machine room — or maybe that’s just her.

Annette comes back to her classroom, staring blankly down at her desk for a good minute.

Okay, she’s clearly not going to get Mr. Fraldarius out of her head. She’s been trying for the last few hours and has been utterly unsuccessful. Maybe she just needs to talk to him. Again. Just one more time. Just to follow up. Because their conversation had been cut short. It’s the only sensible thing to do. And he left her with so many questions! And she can’t just have someone that knows about her singing running loose in the wild! She _has_ to tell him to keep his mouth shut about her singing!

But how? She has to somehow get the message to him, and there’s no way to guarantee Mr. Fraldarius will come back to speak with her again. Unless maybe she can tell Leo to tell his father to come talk to her? But is it a good idea to tell Leo that she wants to talk with his father? What if he doesn’t transfer the message well? Or what if he forgets? She certainly can’t risk that.

Maybe she can write a note to him? Give it to Leo and tell him to pass it along to his dad? Yeah, that seems like the easiest and most effective way to get Mr. Fraldarius back. She just needed him one more time in person.

 _Just one more time_ , she thinks, taking her pen, writing a quick note on the backside of a sticky note.

_Can you meet me after school? I wanted to follow up on our previous conversation._

She stares at her writing before quickly signing under the text.

_— Ms. Annette_

Wait. _Ms. Annette?_ Is that appropriate? She’s not really reaching out to him for teacher purposes, but at the same time… it would be even weirder if she only write _Annette_ because maybe it would come off too personal? Too forward?

Wait. Forward? What is she even being forward about? She just wants to ask him about how he knows about her singing. That’s all. It’s not about anything else! This is stupid. She can’t put all her thinking power into this really not-so-important note to a not-so-important parent of one of her students that just _happened_ to know she sings —

Or maybe writing _Ms. Dominic_ instead of _Ms. Annette_ would work better.

Okay, okay, no more thought wasted on this, Annette promises herself. She’s done with this note, and she’s going to give it to Leo at the end of the day. She quickly folds the sticky note onto it, sealing it neatly before setting the folded note aside on her table.

It stays there on the back side of her sticky note, and she folds it, so that it sticks appropriately at the end, folding it neatly.

She looks up at the clock, distraught to find that she has just a few more minutes on the clock before needing to run down to the cafeteria to pick up her students again.

Crap. She can’t let herself think about Mr. Fraldarius for the rest of the day — at least not until dismissing the class and giving the note to Leo. She has to at least promise herself that.

Fortunately, she does well to keep true to her own promise, although the folded yellow note in the corner of her desk alarms her every time she sees it. Not before long though, it’s time for dismissal, and as her students rush forward to their cubby bins to pull out their things, she quickly goes to her desk and takes the note. She searches for Leo among her students, identifying his head among the crowd of kids. She walks over to him in the most casual and inconspicuous way she can.

“Hey, Leo,” she says, with a smile as she hands the note to him. “Can you give this note to your dad?”

Leo looks at it with great concern. “Is it bad?”

“No, no. This is just an invitation to come visit the classroom whenever he likes,” she replies.

Technically what she said is true.

Her answer doesn’t seem to sit well with Leo, and he looks at her with furrowed eyebrows. For a moment, Annette is worried he’s going to ask her more questions, but he doesn’t. “Okay,” he says, taking the paper in his hand.

Annette lets out her breath. She smiles. “Great. Thank you so much, Leo! I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Bye, Ms. Annette,” he then replies, albeit rather stiffly. After pocketing the note, he immediately runs off to join the rest of his classmates in line by the door.

Annette takes her class to the dismissal area, leaving them at the hands of the dismissal supervisors. She waves goodbye to her class, and as she turns around, takes another deep breath in and out — finally, done for the day.

Well, except for some grading. 

She strolls back into her classroom, glancing at the new stack of papers on her desk — spelling quizzes and addition/subtraction worksheets collected from the afternoon. She huffs one final time, sitting herself down in her chair.

This will be quick. She can go through this in no time.

At least, _theoretically._

She hadn’t let herself think about Mr. Fraldarius since the end of lunch, but now that the classroom is empty, her thoughts wander even more. Leo… Leo’s dad, Mr. Fraldarius… and _the note_ she just wrote to him…

She taps the end of her pen absentmindedly onto her lips, deep in thought. Was sending that message even a good idea? Was that… overstepping a boundary? It isn’t anything about Leo’s performance at all — more like a personal conversation between his dad and her. And Leo looked _so_ concerned when she gave him that note. Not to mention that this morning, he thought he was in trouble, too!

Well, then again _Mr. Fraldarius_ was the one that started all this by mentioning — honestly, _threatening_ , it felt like — her about her singing… and how it was in his head… And that _certainly_ had nothing to do with Leo’s academics.

Yes, _Mr. Fraldarius_ is the one that crossed the line first, if anything.

He’s evil, she decides in her head. _He_ _’s_ the evil one.

She shudders, shaking the thoughts out of her head. No, no, she has to focus.

And she does, at least for a split second. Her eyes flit back to the quiz paper in front of her, squinting at an odd spelling of the word _because,_ before —

A knock on the door.

“Ms. Annette?”


	4. i knew you were trouble

Annette looks up immediately, forcing a smile. “Hi, Mr. Fra—”

She rises to stand, but then she freezes in place, half bent over at the waist.

_Even_ if Mr. Fraldarius is redheaded, a few extra inches taller, bulkier, and carrying a much more casual smile — _whoever is at her door_ is certainly _not_ Mr. Fraldarius.

“Ms. Annette,” he greets her, strolling in through the door as he approaches, giving her a quick once-over. “Looking cute, as always.”

As always?

She furrows her eyebrows. “Have… Have we met?” she asks.

“Oh, only briefly. At the school open house in the start of the year,” he says, then adding, “I’ll be first to admit I don’t remember too much about that day too.” After a beat, he steps forward, extending his hand to her. “Sylvain,” he introduces.

She laughs nervously, taking his hand. “Right. Sorry. It’s nice to meet you again, Sylvain.”

“Leo’s dad,” he clarifies.

Annette feels a cold sweat run over her. “O-Oh,” she says, evenly, now very distinctly aware of how her hand is still in his hand. She gives it an extra shake before she slips her hand out of his.

“Leo passed me a note?” he continues. “Very cute of you to ask for me to come see you after school. I read it the moment he gave it to me and thought I’d drop by sooner than later. I hope you don’t mind.”

The memories of writing the note flash in her mind. She never did specify anyone on the message, and she _did_ tell Leo to give the note to his dad — which… at the time she didn’t realize could have meant two people.

“Oh, I… Sorry, I didn’t realize… I was interacting with Mr. Fraldarius earlier, and I didn’t realize he had another dad in the picture,” she stammers. She puts on a weak smile, gesturing to him. “Or… another Mr. Fraldarius,” she revises.

Sylvain returns the smile, his eyes unmoving from hers. “We don’t take the same name,” he says, as a matter-of-fact. He brushes off the detail quickly. “And many people don’t realize Leo has another dad in the picture. But that’s alright. Your message is more important. What did you want to speak with me about? And what’s going on with Leo? He said he thinks he’s in trouble?”

He stares at her then, and Annette can’t help the blush sprawling over her face because of his intensity. “Oh, no!” she laughs nervously. “He’s not in trouble at all! And, well, I actually was thinking to talk to Mr. Fraldarius again. I was… I wanted to follow up on a previous conversation we had.”

He nods. “Yeah, I figured you wrote the message for Felix,” he says. “Since you mentioned a previous conversation—”

She flashes a smile. “Right, exactly, so—”

“—But I figured if it’s about Leo, I can take care of it, too,” Sylvain continues. “I _am_ his father, too.”

The pit in Annette’s stomach drops deeper in her belly.

“R-Right!” she agrees. “Definitely.”

Well. How does she say that it’s _not_ about Leo but also _not_ imply that it’s _personal_?

“Leo isn’t in trouble at all,” she laughs nervously. “He’s actually one of my best students. One of my favorite students, in fact. I actually wanted to speak with Mr. Fraldarius about something else.” She sees Sylvain’s eyebrow raise, and she quickly adds an apology to breeze over her ambiguity. “Anyway, I’m so sorry about not realizing the situation!”

Sylvain shifts his weight. “Oh, well then,” he starts, crossing his arms. “Then is there any kind of… concern that I should know about?”

“Oh, no, this really isn’t important,” she assures him, starting to feel a panic settle in. “It’s something… well, it’s just something he briefly mentioned this morning to me that I wanted to follow up on. Nothing serious or relevant to the classroom!”

She realizes that by not mentioning this _something_ she makes herself sound so much more suspicious, but she also doesn’t really want to mention _what_ it is that she isn’t mentioning because… well, damn. There really isn’t a win for her here is there?

Sylvain still doesn’t budge. “Oh,” he says, with a small shrug. “Well, that’s alright. Maybe I can at least relay the message to him?”

She cracks a gentle smile, shaking her head. “No, no, that’s alright,” she insists. “It’s really just between the two of us.” She cringes as the words spill out. She was _really_ trying to avoid saying that. “You can tell him that I can talk to him, if he doesn’t mind coming in after school.” After a half-second of awkward silence, she apologizes once more. “I’m really sorry again. I guess I also assumed Mr. Fraldarius was going to pick him up after school.”

“He usually does. Guess it’s just my responsibility today,” Sylvain says. He gives her a tight smile.

Annette nods, pressing her lips together.

“Right, well, it was nice meeting you,” he says, straightening his back. Whatever dark look he had in his eyes is now completely wiped away. “Please let me know if you ever need anything regarding Leo,” he continues, then gives her an easy grin, the corner of his mouth dimpling. “Or if you just need me.”

Here, he steps forward, and Annette feels her heart jump as he takes the red pen from her desk and writes a series of numbers on the top page of her sticky notepad. He writes Sylvain above it, then looks at her again.

“Anytime,” he tells her, underlining his name.

He must see how wide her eyes are, because he simply laughs and glances down at the pen.

“Nice pen,” he adds, twirling it between his fingers. “Writes real smooth.”

Annette laughs nervously. “Yeah. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Hm,” he muses, reading its brand label before tapping its end onto her sticky notes, where his number is written. “See you around, _Ms. Annette_ ,” he says, then ducking out of the classroom.

She gives him a weak goodbye, frozen. Only when he’s completely out of sight does she take a breath, falling into her chair.

What the hell just happened?

She puts her hands into her face.

There’s no question about it. That note was a terrible idea. _Terrible._

…

For the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes, Felix flips his phone over, checking for notifications. Seeing none, he frowns, absentmindedly brushing back loose hairs from an unruly bun with the back of his hand.

What the hell is taking Sylvain so long?

Sylvain is almost always late, but even by those standards… this is an additional fifteen more minutes than usual.

He’s getting Leo ice cream, isn’t he? Felix is almost certain. Sylvain has always been manipulative — it’s terribly obvious he’s just trying to get Leo to like him more, just to spite Felix for keeping Leo away.

Even if Sylvain isn’t getting Leo ice cream, he’s most certainly doing _something_. The man always had something planned, and he’s too self-serving and self-destructive to even execute it well.

Where the _fuck_ is he? School was dismissed an _entire hour_ ago.

Felix’s eyes flick back to his computer screen, once again confronted by the online parking ticket portal.

Sure, he didn’t park in the right place, and sure, maybe he took a little extra time more than necessary chatting with Leo’s teacher, but _come on_ , he was only in that spot for at the very most _ten_ minutes. How the hell were they even able to completely tow his car away in that short amount of time anyway?

It took him _ages_ to figure out which towing company had his car and where his car was, so not only did he miss out on work today — thing’s he’ll to have to make up this weekend — but also he also had to ask _Sylvain_ for a favor.

_Again_.

That’s the second time this week.

And this is all because of _that teacher_. If she just answered his question about her songs, rather than try to deny that she sings at all in the first place, he would have simply gotten his answer and then left.

And it’s _her_ fault that her music got into his head anyway. No one unknowingly makes _that_ catchy of a tune. And if she’s singing it to her students all the time — _of course_ they were going to bring it home to sing out loud and get it stuck in their parents’ heads.

_A flash and then a big boom!_

Almost as if on cue, a loud three knocks at the front door. Felix tosses his laptop aside and immediately gets to his feet, glancing at the time on his way to the door. He swings it open.

“You’re later than usual,” Felix simply states. He looks down to see Leo, who doesn’t actually look any chirpier than usual.

In fact, Sylvain doesn’t look pleased at all either.

Sylvain gives him a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

Felix narrows his eyes. “You guys go get ice cream on the way back or something?”

Sylvain flashes him an amused glare — it’s one Felix is very familiar with, one that says, ‘I can’t believe this fucking idiot.’

“No,” he finally replies, looking off behind Felix. “Nothing fun like that. Although I did have a run in that, uh…” And here, Sylvain’s eyes return to Felix. “… _Ms. Annette_ , though.”

Felix’s heart stops. Ms. Ann— _Ms. Dominic?_

“And?” he asks carefully. He gestures for Leo to go into the house, feeling the kindling of an argument ahead. Leo takes the silent cue, stepping aside him through the door.

“Well, you know, she just wanted for me to pass along a message,” Sylvain replies. “She says she wants to speak to Leo’s Dad. But not me. His _other_ Dad. His _real_ Dad.”

Suddenly feeling defensive, Felix scoffs. “She didn’t say that.”

Somehow, Felix got the impression that Ms. Dominic would never say something like that.

Sylvain rolls his eyes. “I mean, that’s pretty much what she implied.”

“What’d she want to talk about?”

Sylvain shrugs. “Don’t know,” he says, raising a hand goodbye and stepping away from the door. “And I’ll never know since I’m not involved at all with Leo except when it’s convenient for you.”

Felix catches Sylvain’s wrist, pulling him back. “What do you mean you don’t know? You didn’t even ask?”

“Well, I _did_ ask,” Sylvain replies, sneering. “And if I actually had the permission to know, I _would_ know.”

“What are you even talking about?” Felix spits.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t know,” Sylvain says, a curl in his lip. “You told her not to talk to me, didn’t you? Or maybe not _that_ directly, but you at least told her I was the irresponsible parent or some shit, right? She wouldn’t tell me a thing, and I _know_ it’s because she doesn’t trust me, and I _know_ it’s because you told her some shit about me.”

“What?” Felix spits. “I didn’t say _shit_ to her about you! Where the fuck are you coming up with all that this?”

“You’ve done it before with Leo’s teacher last year, and you’re doing it again, and I’m just a fucking fool because I’m _still_ dropping whatever I’m doing for Leo just so that I can regain _your_ trust so that I can see _my own goddamn son._ Fucking ridiculous.”

Felix presses his lips together.

“Well, here I am again, the _irresponsible_ parent, dropping my son off at his _real_ father’s home,” Sylvain says, lowering his head. “You’re welcome.”

With this, Sylvain snaps his arm back out of Felix’s grasp, heading back to his car. Felix watches him, holding back a string of curses. Sylvain backs out of the driveway, foot heavy on the pedal.

Fucking Sylvain. What the fuck was he going off about? He didn’t know Ms. Dominic _himself —_ how could Sylvain think he’s been conspiring with the damn teacher this whole damn time? And… maybe yeah, that’s what happened last year with Leo’s teacher, but _not_ this year.

In fact, he didn’t even _know_ Ms. Dominic until the last couple days because of that _stupid song_ that Leo kept singing and got into his head! And what the hell did that teacher want to even want to talk to him about? And why the hell was Sylvain even talking to Ms. Dominic in the first place? If Sylvain just kept his nose out of all this business…

Fuming, Felix turns back into the house, slamming the door shut. Hearing the faint sound of the television from the living room, he follows the sound, finding Leo blankly watching the screen.

Felix stops, hesitating. Leo probably isn’t happy with him — not from this morning and certainly not from arguing with Sylvain.

“Hey, Leo,” Felix starts, slowly and softly.

Leo turns his head to look at him, but immediately turns his eyes back to the screen, scowling.

Okay, Leo is _definitely_ angry with him.

“Do you know what Ms. Dominic — your teacher — wanted?”

Leo shrugs, sinking his body further into the couch cushions. “I don’t know,” he says. “She gave me a note, and she said to give it to my dad, so I gave it to Dad.”

Is this why Sylvain saw Ms. Dominic? Maybe this note had something…

“What did the note say?”

“I don’t know,” Leo says, his voice hard. “I just gave it to Dad.”

“You… You didn’t think to give it to _me_?” Felix asks, taking in the information. “I just saw her this morning. You don’t think that she when she said to ‘give this to your dad,’ she meant me? She doesn’t even know Sylvain, does she?”

Leo doesn’t reply.

“Leo.”

“ _I don_ _’t know._ ”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? You…” And Felix pauses here. “You’ve never mixed us up,” he finally says. “You… you wanted Sylvain to take care of it instead of me, didn’t you?”

Leo stares straight ahead at the television, but Felix knows that’s a yes — and for the first time, Felix feels like he’s let his son down. He’s acted in a way his son doesn’t like. He’s been a bad father.

Thinking this makes Felix feel a certain way… something that reminds him about how perhaps he’s more like his own father than he thought. Felix doesn’t like that thought and shakes it out of his mind immediately.

Felix squats down, lowering himself to Leo’s eye level.

“Leo, what happened?” he starts. “What did your teacher want to talk to me about anyway?”

At this, Leo frowns, finally replying. “I don’t know. Probably something about me, and how I’m always complaining and that I’m in trouble.”

“In trouble? What? Leo, don’t be ridiculous.”

“But that’s what it is, isn’t it?” his son insists, blubbering. “You and Ms. Annette were talking outside of the classroom yesterday and today, and she wouldn’t tell me what you guys were talking about! And Ms. Annette wouldn’t call on me today, and she was ignoring me all day!”

“What? How do you even know that?”

“I don’t know! That’s what everyone was saying! That I’m in trouble! That’s the only reason why parents talk to teachers! And then everyone was making fun of me today because you talked with her _again_ today, so that’s why everyone knows I’m in _big_ trouble.”

Leo couldn’t have been more wrong. “That’s not true,” Felix says. “And you know better than to care about what other people say.”

Felix waits for Leo to come around with a response, but Leo is tight-lipped again.

“I’m not lying,” Felix adds, mollified. “And I’m sorry. We weren’t talking about you, though, I promise. I just… I was just curious about the songs that you said that Ms. Annette sings.”

And as the words pour out of Felix’s mouth, Felix suddenly just how stupid this whole thing sounds.

“Whatever, Dad,” Leo finally replies, after a moment. “Just leave me alone.” And then after a pause, he asks, “Why can’t I just stay with Dad anyway? Why do I have to stay with you? I like Dad better.”

That about does it. Felix has had a rough day. His car was towed, Sylvain was an asshole, and now his son won’t talk to him or acknowledge his genuine apology.

But Felix is _not_ going to explode at his son.

“Just do your homework,” he says, rising from his squat.

He doesn’t even bother to turn off the television on his way out of the living room, leaving the situation as soon as possible so that he can cool off in the hallway. He checks his phone, resisting the urge to throw it at the wall.

Looks like he’s free tomorrow afternoon.

Ms. Dominic wants to speak with him?

Oh, he’s going to have a word with Ms. Dominic, alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i know. the set up is taking a really long time but i promise we're gonna have felannie talking to each other soon!

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/napsbeforesleep)


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